He might probably be one of the most uninteresting topics for most of you. But kunal, unintentionally has become an important part of my life. Kunal, a five year old street kid who lives at the doorstep of my college. Just like any other unnoticed kid on the streets he lives his life carefree of the troubles of the world. His life is not disturbed by the periodic change of political parties, of inflation, of having to live a life in a world so competitive. All that matters to him are the three meals of his day.
The first time I met Kunal was about a year back. Wearing a pair of over sized shorts which were forced to fit him by a tattered rope. With his fragile little hands he handed over to me an empty bottle saying "Didi, thanda paani bhar ke do na (Please fill this with cold water)." And the moment I filled the bottle and gave it back to him I heard him saying something which totally surprised me.
"Thank you didi"
Thank you?? It had been ages since I even heard that. Even in the civilised world we live in! There was something about that kid that always made me fond of him. Was it his manners? Was it his innocence? Was it his ability to smile even in the life that he lived while I whined with all that I have? Or maybe, it was just him as a person on the whole. Kunal on the whole is a lovely kid. Much civilized than the rich brats I see who throw tantrums for everything to be more than one.
It was yesterday after going on a shopping spree, I entered a gift shop to but somethings i needed. Kunal was sitting outside the shop, still wearing that smile which even now amuses me, asking all the passer by's to buy him a helicopter toy. As soon as he saw me, his face gleamed with a ray of hope, that the didi who always filled him a bottle of cold water may also fill his bare hands with a glossy toy. For a moment I even looked at the price tag. It was for Rs.1000. I sure as hell couldn't afford that for him. And though I tried to tell him that it is expensive and I wouldn't be able to get it for him, he just didn't understand. In vain, I ignored his call and walked away.
On one side, though it might seem good enough for him to be kept away from politics, from inflation, from the worries of living in a competetive world, doesn't it become his right to be involved in all of this? Why is it that some of us get to go to college and bunk classes just to have fun while all that he can ever do is press his face up the windows and look into the empty classrooms? Why is it that some of us sit and whine at what all we missed on while he hasn't even had the privilege of counting what he has? Is it fair? Who is responsible for this child's cry? Who can hear it?
While as of now, all I can do is blog about it, I hope someday Kunal grows up and gets his own glossy helicopter to fly above the world.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Coco the clown
Behind the dingy orange veil, he sat down, one more day, to take the mask off his face. He looked at his own show tickets and laughed. Coco the clown. He never really liked that name. Coco- sounds warm, loving and happy. Completely ironical to his life. Everything seemed fake to him, for he laughed in pain and he laughed in joy. Wearing a smile became a profession than a privilege. What a pity!
But the only thing these days that had been putting a smile on his face was Laila, his secret love. She worked as an apprentice in a magic show in the same circus. Her charm had bewitched coco. It turned him from a mere joker to a man. All that he could think of in the last few months was her. So much that it became difficult for him to concentrate on his work. Sometimes, he drifted into his own sweet world and wouldn't come back to his senses unless his boss snapped him out of it. Sometimes he even got yelled at. But it dint bother him much. He had the privilege of living a happy life with her, in his mind. There were times when she'd occasionally look at him as well. And whenever she did, she made his day.
The Brazilian fest seemed to be the biggest fest at that time. Coco couldn't possibly miss this chance. He made up his mind that this time he would ask Laila out. He somehow summed up the courage and did. At first she laughed. Coco's heart lumped in his throat. Then in an almost inaudible voice she said yes. His heart was filled with ecstasy. He was elated to a state of perpetual joy which he didn't know how to handle. He hadn't felt so alive in all these years.
The carnival had finally arrived. Seemed like a lifetime to him. He signed up for morning shows on that day so as to not clash with his date. Date! How funny and simple did that word seem compared to the battle raging in his heart. He wore the best suit he had to impress his lady. He bought her a bunch of roses like a perfect gentleman would. He wondered what the eve would be like. He thought of taking her around the carnival. Being her man for the day. Showing her and telling her things she had never heard of before. Taking her for a dance. Buying her a gift at the carnival which would always remind her about him. She'd certainly be surprised to see such a sensitive man behind those clown feet and the red nose. Coco was more than a clown. He was a man who was forced to turn his life into a joke for the amusement of others. But beyond all that, a small part of him still wished to laugh genuinely, to cry, to be angry or sad. To love. To live...
Yes, he wanted to show her whom he really was.
During these beautiful moments of waiting for her, of the anxiety and the impatience raging through, he suddenly hear a voice call him out. It was his boss. He told him that the other clown has been throwing up all day and that Coco will have to take his place for the evening show. He tried to explain it to his boss that he cannot, but in vain. He quickly scribbled down a note explaining everything and telling her that he'd be back by nine. He left it along with the bunch of roses hoping that she'd find them.
He rushed his way through the show, almost skipping some acts, and off he ran to his lady love in his clown clothes.
There she was, in someone else's arms. Someone younger and more handsome than what he was. She walked past him without even casting a glance. He didn't know what to do. For he didn't realize what he felt. It was that same cold feeling again. Yes, life had numbed him yet another time. He slowly walked his way back to the room behind the dingy orange veil. A tear trickled down his cheek. Tears! It had been a lifetime since he felt those! Without saying a word, he sat down, one more day, to take the eternal mask off his face.
But the only thing these days that had been putting a smile on his face was Laila, his secret love. She worked as an apprentice in a magic show in the same circus. Her charm had bewitched coco. It turned him from a mere joker to a man. All that he could think of in the last few months was her. So much that it became difficult for him to concentrate on his work. Sometimes, he drifted into his own sweet world and wouldn't come back to his senses unless his boss snapped him out of it. Sometimes he even got yelled at. But it dint bother him much. He had the privilege of living a happy life with her, in his mind. There were times when she'd occasionally look at him as well. And whenever she did, she made his day.
The Brazilian fest seemed to be the biggest fest at that time. Coco couldn't possibly miss this chance. He made up his mind that this time he would ask Laila out. He somehow summed up the courage and did. At first she laughed. Coco's heart lumped in his throat. Then in an almost inaudible voice she said yes. His heart was filled with ecstasy. He was elated to a state of perpetual joy which he didn't know how to handle. He hadn't felt so alive in all these years.
The carnival had finally arrived. Seemed like a lifetime to him. He signed up for morning shows on that day so as to not clash with his date. Date! How funny and simple did that word seem compared to the battle raging in his heart. He wore the best suit he had to impress his lady. He bought her a bunch of roses like a perfect gentleman would. He wondered what the eve would be like. He thought of taking her around the carnival. Being her man for the day. Showing her and telling her things she had never heard of before. Taking her for a dance. Buying her a gift at the carnival which would always remind her about him. She'd certainly be surprised to see such a sensitive man behind those clown feet and the red nose. Coco was more than a clown. He was a man who was forced to turn his life into a joke for the amusement of others. But beyond all that, a small part of him still wished to laugh genuinely, to cry, to be angry or sad. To love. To live...
Yes, he wanted to show her whom he really was.
During these beautiful moments of waiting for her, of the anxiety and the impatience raging through, he suddenly hear a voice call him out. It was his boss. He told him that the other clown has been throwing up all day and that Coco will have to take his place for the evening show. He tried to explain it to his boss that he cannot, but in vain. He quickly scribbled down a note explaining everything and telling her that he'd be back by nine. He left it along with the bunch of roses hoping that she'd find them.
He rushed his way through the show, almost skipping some acts, and off he ran to his lady love in his clown clothes.
There she was, in someone else's arms. Someone younger and more handsome than what he was. She walked past him without even casting a glance. He didn't know what to do. For he didn't realize what he felt. It was that same cold feeling again. Yes, life had numbed him yet another time. He slowly walked his way back to the room behind the dingy orange veil. A tear trickled down his cheek. Tears! It had been a lifetime since he felt those! Without saying a word, he sat down, one more day, to take the eternal mask off his face.
Monday, February 7, 2011
The dreamer
The dreamer
I fumbled, I fell, I lost my way
As a dreamer in this chaotic world.
you laughed at every step of mine
enjoyed my mistake
taunted my imperfection.
told me am not worth it
worth any of it at all...
I fumbled, I fell, I lost my way
to some naive dreams that never came true
slayed into the hands of reality
you laughed everytime I lost.
I fumbled, I fell, I lost my way
Caught in the viscious cycle of life
bound from my right to live
in the name of inglorious traditions.
Shame on you, for holding me back
for today I break my chains and fly
Shame on you, you prejudiced bastards
who hold back the dreams of dreamers like me,
yet to come true...
I may have fumbled, I may have fallen,
I may seem to have lost my way
But I know where am headed
in this chaotic world,
as a dreamer, I walk my way...
I fumbled, I fell, I lost my way
As a dreamer in this chaotic world.
you laughed at every step of mine
enjoyed my mistake
taunted my imperfection.
told me am not worth it
worth any of it at all...
I fumbled, I fell, I lost my way
to some naive dreams that never came true
slayed into the hands of reality
you laughed everytime I lost.
I fumbled, I fell, I lost my way
Caught in the viscious cycle of life
bound from my right to live
in the name of inglorious traditions.
Shame on you, for holding me back
for today I break my chains and fly
Shame on you, you prejudiced bastards
who hold back the dreams of dreamers like me,
yet to come true...
I may have fumbled, I may have fallen,
I may seem to have lost my way
But I know where am headed
in this chaotic world,
as a dreamer, I walk my way...
Thursday, February 3, 2011
The lost soul
Just as i was talking to a friend of mine i realized how much had happened in my life in such a little time. So much that i hardly find time to catch up with my own life these days. Be it enjoying with friends, managing things at home, or slogging my ass out at college. But everything said and done a part of me within still seemed incomplete. A part of my soul, which i seem to have lost in the due course of a battleship. A part of my soul which I am just not able to find. And thats when I realised how much I missed the time I used to spend writing. And I thought what better way to start again than to write about whatever has been keeping me pre-occupied all these days. This might not be one of my best works, but it definitely is an important one. Yes, I am back on the pursuit I once began...
Life sure has taken a lot of turns. Things changed, situations changed and so did people. But one things that never changed were those naive dreams I once lived with. The thirst for the applause, the sound of those cheers. The bright spot light that used to gleam in my eyes. Ah! Still seems like yesterday when I recieved my last prize. Being so used to the limelight, suddenly being just "anybody" became very difficult. When I entered wilsons, I entered with the dream of living up to everything I had expected out of myself. Life out here sure did have a great start. With friends I can have none better and the endless fun making college a perpetual carnival I believed I couldnt ask for anything more. But the sudden silence made everyone ponder what exactly is going wrong. Sure most of us landed in IT without the intention of being here. But was that all it was? Thinking still deeper we realised that it was the fact that none of us have been living the dream we carried when we entered the college. At least I was sure I was not. From guitar classes to theatre to writing, everything seemed incomplete. All because I had lost faith in myself because of some silly things in the past. I've had my dose of regrets for making those decisions. But do they have to go along with me further enough to savage my dreams? And so today I built up the courage to talk to a friend. To build up the strength to forgive myself. To find a way to my dreams. To make sure I reach where I've always wanted to be. And I sure will one day. For I have an amazing family to support me till then. To make me laugh when I am sad, lift my spirits up when I am down. Or to just give me an ear when I seem so very lost and confused. I do have a wonderful family called "friends".
Life sure has taken a lot of turns. Things changed, situations changed and so did people. But one things that never changed were those naive dreams I once lived with. The thirst for the applause, the sound of those cheers. The bright spot light that used to gleam in my eyes. Ah! Still seems like yesterday when I recieved my last prize. Being so used to the limelight, suddenly being just "anybody" became very difficult. When I entered wilsons, I entered with the dream of living up to everything I had expected out of myself. Life out here sure did have a great start. With friends I can have none better and the endless fun making college a perpetual carnival I believed I couldnt ask for anything more. But the sudden silence made everyone ponder what exactly is going wrong. Sure most of us landed in IT without the intention of being here. But was that all it was? Thinking still deeper we realised that it was the fact that none of us have been living the dream we carried when we entered the college. At least I was sure I was not. From guitar classes to theatre to writing, everything seemed incomplete. All because I had lost faith in myself because of some silly things in the past. I've had my dose of regrets for making those decisions. But do they have to go along with me further enough to savage my dreams? And so today I built up the courage to talk to a friend. To build up the strength to forgive myself. To find a way to my dreams. To make sure I reach where I've always wanted to be. And I sure will one day. For I have an amazing family to support me till then. To make me laugh when I am sad, lift my spirits up when I am down. Or to just give me an ear when I seem so very lost and confused. I do have a wonderful family called "friends".
The dawn of a timeline...
Gleaming fireworks brighten the sky
marking another year that just passed by.
How much the times have changed
from crimson red to deep blue.
People come and people walk by
some stay for a reason, season
and yet some, promise a life time.
Truth crushed under prejudices
and naive fairy tales savaged.
Lives lived behind masks
yet dreamers like me still dreamt.
An era of a paradoxical life, people and soul...
Another year of helpless tantrums
Another year pain
Some felt, some lost and some gained.
Of smiles passed from face to face.
Of lessons needed to be learnt
and yet some in vain.
Of empty books
and unwritten stories
Of triumphant battles without armours...
And here I stand at the dawn of another timeline
bruised, but still through.
I've seen the colours of my sky changing
from crimson red to deep blue.
marking another year that just passed by.
How much the times have changed
from crimson red to deep blue.
People come and people walk by
some stay for a reason, season
and yet some, promise a life time.
Truth crushed under prejudices
and naive fairy tales savaged.
Lives lived behind masks
yet dreamers like me still dreamt.
An era of a paradoxical life, people and soul...
Another year of helpless tantrums
Another year pain
Some felt, some lost and some gained.
Of smiles passed from face to face.
Of lessons needed to be learnt
and yet some in vain.
Of empty books
and unwritten stories
Of triumphant battles without armours...
And here I stand at the dawn of another timeline
bruised, but still through.
I've seen the colours of my sky changing
from crimson red to deep blue.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
The Comeback...
Perplexed and lost, a poetess like me
Didn't write for four months and days seventeen
Who was once crowned as the melancholy queen
Now couldn’t rhyme a word to the syllable "e".
So much had happened in such little time
Her chaotic life making it difficult to beguile
She envied the ''Wordsworth'' she once adored the most
For his poetry admired from coast to coast.
Was the nature playing fools? Oh not he!
His enchanting beauty gleamed across the sea
Or the profound grey cloud's graffiti
Or a young couple's love defying gravity.
She almost gave up, didn't want to write
When a fragile little girl walked by her side
Begging for a penny, a nickel or a dime
Persistently bothering the woman who tried hard to rhyme.
The woman fumbled in her purse as the coins cluttered through
Grabbing a thin coin whose value she not knew
In a lame attempt to get rid of the pain
She gave the girl a rare ten rupees coin.
The little girl's eyes gleamed with a twinkle
The adrenaline rushing made her voice crinkle
She held it close, like the treasure of a lost isle
She cared not for the poetry she had just beguile
Lost in those naïve eyes, the woman watched the girl
Whose innocence spoke more than any poet’s words
Clueless of how to write the girl’s chastity
Stood perplexed and lost a poetess like me
Didn't write for four months and days seventeen
Who was once crowned as the melancholy queen
Now couldn’t rhyme a word to the syllable "e".
So much had happened in such little time
Her chaotic life making it difficult to beguile
She envied the ''Wordsworth'' she once adored the most
For his poetry admired from coast to coast.
Was the nature playing fools? Oh not he!
His enchanting beauty gleamed across the sea
Or the profound grey cloud's graffiti
Or a young couple's love defying gravity.
She almost gave up, didn't want to write
When a fragile little girl walked by her side
Begging for a penny, a nickel or a dime
Persistently bothering the woman who tried hard to rhyme.
The woman fumbled in her purse as the coins cluttered through
Grabbing a thin coin whose value she not knew
In a lame attempt to get rid of the pain
She gave the girl a rare ten rupees coin.
The little girl's eyes gleamed with a twinkle
The adrenaline rushing made her voice crinkle
She held it close, like the treasure of a lost isle
She cared not for the poetry she had just beguile
Lost in those naïve eyes, the woman watched the girl
Whose innocence spoke more than any poet’s words
Clueless of how to write the girl’s chastity
Stood perplexed and lost a poetess like me
The autumn leaf
Blown away by the autumn wind
Abandoned by his home
Depraved of love, an autumn leaf
Blew along, on his home.
The one that one crowned the tree
Sheltered under its foot.
Swamped up by death and grime
Amid nothingness he stood.
They sang an ode to the west wind
They sang an ode to the tree
They sang an ode to the goldfinch that passed
Sadly forgotten was he.
He mattered when he was alive
He'll matter during rebirth
He mattered to none when he was blown away
Being walked over by dirt.
He had his days on top of the world
He had lived above them all.
All it took was an icy blow
To bring him down the fall
Abandoned by his home
Depraved of love, an autumn leaf
Blew along, on his home.
The one that one crowned the tree
Sheltered under its foot.
Swamped up by death and grime
Amid nothingness he stood.
They sang an ode to the west wind
They sang an ode to the tree
They sang an ode to the goldfinch that passed
Sadly forgotten was he.
He mattered when he was alive
He'll matter during rebirth
He mattered to none when he was blown away
Being walked over by dirt.
He had his days on top of the world
He had lived above them all.
All it took was an icy blow
To bring him down the fall
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Change
When I was five:
A painting class at school
I drew a crow that was green and blue.
My furious teacher tore it apart.
“A crow is black, you stupid girl!”
Change- was what she told.
When I was seven:
I finally told mom I don’t like pink.
And frocks don’t fascinate me anymore.
“You’re still a kid. You don’t understand.”
Change- was what she told.
When I was ten:
My first argument with dad
His flesh and blood with a paradoxical thought
“How dare you back answer ME?”
Change- was what he told.
When I was thirteen:
I chose my God.
I chose what to pray.
I chose my scriptures; needless to say
Huddled by an intimidating society.
Change- was what they all told.
When I was sixteen:
My first best friend, whom I worshipped.
Beyond whom I saw no life.
The one whom I adored and respected the most.
In whose word, my life and breath stood.
Debauching the sunshine of my life,
His boneless tongue said
“Everybody changes. So have I
Change...”
When I was seventeen:
My sweetheart turns up to me one day,
Annoyed and burdened with all my love.
Trying to justify it all;
Change- was what he told.
What do I change about myself? Can anybody please tell?
My creativity?
My individuality?
My faith?
My trust?
My love?
Myself?
What do I change? What do I??
A painting class at school
I drew a crow that was green and blue.
My furious teacher tore it apart.
“A crow is black, you stupid girl!”
Change- was what she told.
When I was seven:
I finally told mom I don’t like pink.
And frocks don’t fascinate me anymore.
“You’re still a kid. You don’t understand.”
Change- was what she told.
When I was ten:
My first argument with dad
His flesh and blood with a paradoxical thought
“How dare you back answer ME?”
Change- was what he told.
When I was thirteen:
I chose my God.
I chose what to pray.
I chose my scriptures; needless to say
Huddled by an intimidating society.
Change- was what they all told.
When I was sixteen:
My first best friend, whom I worshipped.
Beyond whom I saw no life.
The one whom I adored and respected the most.
In whose word, my life and breath stood.
Debauching the sunshine of my life,
His boneless tongue said
“Everybody changes. So have I
Change...”
When I was seventeen:
My sweetheart turns up to me one day,
Annoyed and burdened with all my love.
Trying to justify it all;
Change- was what he told.
What do I change about myself? Can anybody please tell?
My creativity?
My individuality?
My faith?
My trust?
My love?
Myself?
What do I change? What do I??
Saturday, February 27, 2010
A Symbolised Life
In spite of living in a world which speaks about woman empowerment, gender equallity, equal opportunity etc, there still remains a little corner of the world which reflects the dark, unnoticed fate of women, whose lives are inevitably influenced by those around them. Here is a small reflection into such a woman’s world, drawing parallel with literary punctuations and symbols.
A Symbolised life
Comma (,) – Was what that was put on her when they realised that she too was a girl.
Brackets ( [ ] )- Were always used to enclose her within mind numbing rituals.
Asterisk (*) – Was on her mind (only) when she abused those bastards, before shedding those indiscernible tears.
Positivity (+) – A state of mind she perpetually faked.
Dollars ($) – A distant dream which never became hers.
Question mark (?) – An intimidating gift from the society.
Exclamation mark (!) – When she felt his sweat down her neck for the first time.
Semi colon (;) – A mature woman she gave birth to, from within.
Oblique (/) – When she got to make her first (obvious) choice- life/pretending to live.
Full stop (.) – Was all that she could choose after sixty years of a symbolised life.
A Symbolised life
Comma (,) – Was what that was put on her when they realised that she too was a girl.
Brackets ( [ ] )- Were always used to enclose her within mind numbing rituals.
Asterisk (*) – Was on her mind (only) when she abused those bastards, before shedding those indiscernible tears.
Positivity (+) – A state of mind she perpetually faked.
Dollars ($) – A distant dream which never became hers.
Question mark (?) – An intimidating gift from the society.
Exclamation mark (!) – When she felt his sweat down her neck for the first time.
Semi colon (;) – A mature woman she gave birth to, from within.
Oblique (/) – When she got to make her first (obvious) choice- life/pretending to live.
Full stop (.) – Was all that she could choose after sixty years of a symbolised life.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Mr.Imperfect
He’s not perfect. No he isn’t.
His clothes never match
Lil’ rugged beard under his chin.
Umpteen phones sagging down his pants.
Busy-ness personified.
A d.j draped in simple clothes
Ironic to the pennies
chuckling in his piggy.
He never calls when he says he will
and when he does, he lulls to sleep.
Makes me wait for hours at the coffee shop.
Makes me text “:-(” and “X-(“ more than “<3”...
His forgetfulness will infuriate you
His laziness drowns you to depression.
He is not in the word of any laureate’s pen...
But beyond this, he’s special to me
For that word to update his wardrobe.
That “clean shaved” look he promises for tomorrow.
For switching off his phone when I demand
and singing my fav. slow track when am sick.
For being a spend thrift on those surprise gifts;
his endeavour to smile even amidst pain
just because I love his dimples.
For treating me like an infant;
securing me in his arms, tightly, so that I don’t trip.
For those “sholly baby. I love you” texts
For sipping a cappuccino he dislikes
just for me.
For those genuine tears when am in pain.
Those hands to hold throughout my way.
Those stern glances when am wrong.
Those silly pranks to make me smile.
Feeding me food when am not hungry
just like my mother...
(teary eyed)
He’s not perfect. No he isn’t.
His love is beyond a laureate’s pen...
His clothes never match
Lil’ rugged beard under his chin.
Umpteen phones sagging down his pants.
Busy-ness personified.
A d.j draped in simple clothes
Ironic to the pennies
chuckling in his piggy.
He never calls when he says he will
and when he does, he lulls to sleep.
Makes me wait for hours at the coffee shop.
Makes me text “:-(” and “X-(“ more than “<3”...
His forgetfulness will infuriate you
His laziness drowns you to depression.
He is not in the word of any laureate’s pen...
But beyond this, he’s special to me
For that word to update his wardrobe.
That “clean shaved” look he promises for tomorrow.
For switching off his phone when I demand
and singing my fav. slow track when am sick.
For being a spend thrift on those surprise gifts;
his endeavour to smile even amidst pain
just because I love his dimples.
For treating me like an infant;
securing me in his arms, tightly, so that I don’t trip.
For those “sholly baby. I love you” texts
For sipping a cappuccino he dislikes
just for me.
For those genuine tears when am in pain.
Those hands to hold throughout my way.
Those stern glances when am wrong.
Those silly pranks to make me smile.
Feeding me food when am not hungry
just like my mother...
(teary eyed)
He’s not perfect. No he isn’t.
His love is beyond a laureate’s pen...
Thursday, December 24, 2009
The tale untold
Concealed and cagey in the scarlet vale
elucidated a woman, of a beautiful tale.
A tale of love, togetherness and despair,
a profound secret lost in air.
Her thoughts preceded to the times of yore;
to a castle on the fringe of a shore;
where Romeos and Juliets danced in merry
with no frets or agony in their life to decry.
She saw him there, the Prince of her life
with whom she knew her days would thrive.
A man of beauty and charm was he;
with a saccharine voice and eyes pale green.
He took her hand; the ballet queen
Gliding in the ballroom, all through the eve
Like Romeos and Juliets they danced in merry
with no frets or agony in their life to decry.
He promised to return and ask for her hand
to sweep her off her feet and take her to his land.
Through fading eves she lingered in vain
on her Prince and the white horse who never showed again.
Decades later, she recalls that night
when she was depraved of love by a glorious Knight.
Whose eminence triumphs throughout mankind
but left his woman far behind
In a rugged paper she scribbles a note
to unknown faces, of her lover’s quote
Hoping to remind him, she still exists
And waits for him, for that first kiss...
She crumbles the note and shudders a tear
and blows the millionth kiss in air.
After an era, she sleeps in ease
Leaving her soul to rest in peace
elucidated a woman, of a beautiful tale.
A tale of love, togetherness and despair,
a profound secret lost in air.
Her thoughts preceded to the times of yore;
to a castle on the fringe of a shore;
where Romeos and Juliets danced in merry
with no frets or agony in their life to decry.
She saw him there, the Prince of her life
with whom she knew her days would thrive.
A man of beauty and charm was he;
with a saccharine voice and eyes pale green.
He took her hand; the ballet queen
Gliding in the ballroom, all through the eve
Like Romeos and Juliets they danced in merry
with no frets or agony in their life to decry.
He promised to return and ask for her hand
to sweep her off her feet and take her to his land.
Through fading eves she lingered in vain
on her Prince and the white horse who never showed again.
Decades later, she recalls that night
when she was depraved of love by a glorious Knight.
Whose eminence triumphs throughout mankind
but left his woman far behind
In a rugged paper she scribbles a note
to unknown faces, of her lover’s quote
Hoping to remind him, she still exists
And waits for him, for that first kiss...
She crumbles the note and shudders a tear
and blows the millionth kiss in air.
After an era, she sleeps in ease
Leaving her soul to rest in peace
Friday, November 20, 2009
The woman insane
Perhaps a moment, a minute maybe
is all that she wants, ‘tis all that she needs.
The woman whom ideally they call insane
whom they call a nuisance, a threat they blame.
What is with her? That she scares the passer-by’s
with a stone in her hand and fury in her eyes.
“Where does she live?” a child out of innocence
asks his mom as they whizz past by.
No time for the woman,
not a minute at all.
To listen to her woes, listen to ‘em all.
In a perpetual murmur she speaks out her words.
Alas! To the little lad they seem unheard.
With a courageous heart, she ought to have lied;
when she laughed through her voice, with tears in her eyes.
Are there no hands to wipe them out?
To ease the crease of her frown?
Perhaps a poet like me might want
to purge off her woes with a magical wand.
Or slap her hard, at least make her cry,
such little do we think, seldom do we try.
The lady in the bus who laughs in haste
of her son, whom the mad woman had chased.
What matters? We don’t have a moment or two,
for we have our own lives, our sanity to pursue.
Miles apart from the woman, I now travel by
thinking of her, with a tear in my eye.
Maybe I should have gone, least should have tried.
Bound by my helplessness, to ease out the pain
to resurrect the soul of a woman insane
who yearns for a moment, a minute in vain.
is all that she wants, ‘tis all that she needs.
The woman whom ideally they call insane
whom they call a nuisance, a threat they blame.
What is with her? That she scares the passer-by’s
with a stone in her hand and fury in her eyes.
“Where does she live?” a child out of innocence
asks his mom as they whizz past by.
No time for the woman,
not a minute at all.
To listen to her woes, listen to ‘em all.
In a perpetual murmur she speaks out her words.
Alas! To the little lad they seem unheard.
With a courageous heart, she ought to have lied;
when she laughed through her voice, with tears in her eyes.
Are there no hands to wipe them out?
To ease the crease of her frown?
Perhaps a poet like me might want
to purge off her woes with a magical wand.
Or slap her hard, at least make her cry,
such little do we think, seldom do we try.
The lady in the bus who laughs in haste
of her son, whom the mad woman had chased.
What matters? We don’t have a moment or two,
for we have our own lives, our sanity to pursue.
Miles apart from the woman, I now travel by
thinking of her, with a tear in my eye.
Maybe I should have gone, least should have tried.
Bound by my helplessness, to ease out the pain
to resurrect the soul of a woman insane
who yearns for a moment, a minute in vain.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
The November Rain
Its pouring here, its pouring there.
It’s raining everywhere
What more do we have with us
but the rain that we share
Set apart by worldly norms
are the days of yours and mine.
Tired of the infinite coldness
across the distant line.
Resting on the gliding clouds
I send my words to you.
Seize them if they come as drops
or behold the morning dew.
How I wish, I could let you know
of my heart’s aching pain.
These are the tears of an unknown woman
that descend as the November rain...
It’s raining everywhere
What more do we have with us
but the rain that we share
Set apart by worldly norms
are the days of yours and mine.
Tired of the infinite coldness
across the distant line.
Resting on the gliding clouds
I send my words to you.
Seize them if they come as drops
or behold the morning dew.
How I wish, I could let you know
of my heart’s aching pain.
These are the tears of an unknown woman
that descend as the November rain...
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Colours
What colour is it?
A wounded badge; stained clothes,
half dead souls of yours and mine
the child’s cry, or the mother’s agony.
Imparting pain to thy brother.
Its bleeding red...
What colour is it?
For a soldier’s last breath
seeking peace, heaven and God.
Someone asking him to walk that alley,
turn left and climb the winding staircase
to the Father, pleading for forgiveness.
Alas! It’s too late
to knock on heaven’s door.
It’s serene white.
What colour is it?
A lil bird’s flapping wings painting the sky
or the sad woman’s state of mind?
Shades which follow through the day
and sink in quietly at night.
The colour of life;
infinite and impalpable.
It’s blue.
What colour is it?
The scorching heat of a summer wave
or the interminable greed for gold?
The spark in the eye of a young lad
or the morning’s colour that unfolds?
It’s gleaming yellow.
What colour is it?
The colour of the smoke from guns
or the colour of devastation?
The colour of holes left behind
by incessant firing of bullets.
The colour of death in the name of valour.
The colour of the cloud that descends.
Yes! I can see the cloud,
it’s black.
A wounded badge; stained clothes,
half dead souls of yours and mine
the child’s cry, or the mother’s agony.
Imparting pain to thy brother.
Its bleeding red...
What colour is it?
For a soldier’s last breath
seeking peace, heaven and God.
Someone asking him to walk that alley,
turn left and climb the winding staircase
to the Father, pleading for forgiveness.
Alas! It’s too late
to knock on heaven’s door.
It’s serene white.
What colour is it?
A lil bird’s flapping wings painting the sky
or the sad woman’s state of mind?
Shades which follow through the day
and sink in quietly at night.
The colour of life;
infinite and impalpable.
It’s blue.
What colour is it?
The scorching heat of a summer wave
or the interminable greed for gold?
The spark in the eye of a young lad
or the morning’s colour that unfolds?
It’s gleaming yellow.
What colour is it?
The colour of the smoke from guns
or the colour of devastation?
The colour of holes left behind
by incessant firing of bullets.
The colour of death in the name of valour.
The colour of the cloud that descends.
Yes! I can see the cloud,
it’s black.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
He touched me...
A morning of bliss
serenity and peace
never has this delight been felt before
waking up with an enlightening vision
of my God’s presence.
My guilt burdened soul
was put to rest
my condemned mind
to seek salvation.
My sorrowful heart
with overflowing ecstasy
And the life I lived
with wisdom.
How merciful can our Lord be?
For He sent His only Son.
To wipe our sins with the blood He spills
and to make His flesh our bread.
With every step I move ahead
The Lord, my God I have.
For every time I break and fall
in His Grace I shall stand.
A morning of bliss
serenity and peace
never has this delight been felt before
What sets this morning so apart
Is my Christ’s divine presence.
Proofread by: Vaishnavi Senthilkumar
serenity and peace
never has this delight been felt before
waking up with an enlightening vision
of my God’s presence.
My guilt burdened soul
was put to rest
my condemned mind
to seek salvation.
My sorrowful heart
with overflowing ecstasy
And the life I lived
with wisdom.
How merciful can our Lord be?
For He sent His only Son.
To wipe our sins with the blood He spills
and to make His flesh our bread.
With every step I move ahead
The Lord, my God I have.
For every time I break and fall
in His Grace I shall stand.
A morning of bliss
serenity and peace
never has this delight been felt before
What sets this morning so apart
Is my Christ’s divine presence.
Proofread by: Vaishnavi Senthilkumar
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Let it be...
Let it snow
let it fall
let it cover upon the world
let a white sheath of lies
hide the miseries of the day
let tears remain unknown
let darkness cover all fear
and seal it in a cold tomb
let the silence of a dark horse
devastate all grief
let us hide from ourselves for once
underneath the bitter cold
away from the helplessness of mankind
let a little warmth
be the only cause of comfort
let all eyes cry with no shame
let the heart with pain be numb
let the blood freeze
let the untold stories remain untold
let us accept every despair as it is; for once
let solitude give solace
Just for tonight,
let me hug my pillow real tight.
Please turn off the lights
brightness frightens.
Don’t wake up mamma
let her forget all her pain
and sleep with peace.
let things be undone
imperfect
Just tonight,
let it snow
let it fall
let the pain freeze...
let it fall
let it cover upon the world
let a white sheath of lies
hide the miseries of the day
let tears remain unknown
let darkness cover all fear
and seal it in a cold tomb
let the silence of a dark horse
devastate all grief
let us hide from ourselves for once
underneath the bitter cold
away from the helplessness of mankind
let a little warmth
be the only cause of comfort
let all eyes cry with no shame
let the heart with pain be numb
let the blood freeze
let the untold stories remain untold
let us accept every despair as it is; for once
let solitude give solace
Just for tonight,
let me hug my pillow real tight.
Please turn off the lights
brightness frightens.
Don’t wake up mamma
let her forget all her pain
and sleep with peace.
let things be undone
imperfect
Just tonight,
let it snow
let it fall
let the pain freeze...
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Happy In-dependence day!
To be very frank, this is the most not-so-independent kind of Independence Day we’re celebrating. All thanks to the swine flu thing on the spread which has been keeping us under house arrest. I was yelling at home today accusing the govt of how unfair it is to ask us to celebrate an in-dependence day. Just then I thought of making a quick analysis to while away time on the significant changes we’ve brought upon our nation since independence. Unfortunately, our level of dependence continues to be a heart break.
We still haven’t lost the bad habit of looking up to others to seek help without giving it a shot ourselves. Be it importing daily grocery or asking a friend to settle scoffs with the neighbour. We are still dependent. Dependent on each other and dependent on others. But never dependent on ourselves. I wonder where this level of dependence comes from. Moving down to a narrow scale, this seems to be an everyday scenario at every house. The ideology of spoon feeding takes away the originality in every individual leaving no room for thoughts to grow. How much have we mentally grown is a question which ought to be answered. I am personally very happy with legalising gay rights. But the forlorn struggle seems cryptic. What a person does in their bedroom is nobody’s business and certainly not the government’s. Better late than never though. Pat-Pat India!
All of this leads to one conclusion that there is a need for more freedom of thoughts. Years of mind numbing rituals in the name of conservatism has tied us down by a vicious chain which has to be broken down. It’s high time we grow up. There is a necessity for us to think, to question, to develop a sense of curiosity wherever required. Instead of making resolutions which pile up like files at the BMC office, let’s look back at what we’ve still not done, where we’ve gone wrong and correct our shortcomings ‘ourselves’. It’s high time we move on from being in-dependent.
We still haven’t lost the bad habit of looking up to others to seek help without giving it a shot ourselves. Be it importing daily grocery or asking a friend to settle scoffs with the neighbour. We are still dependent. Dependent on each other and dependent on others. But never dependent on ourselves. I wonder where this level of dependence comes from. Moving down to a narrow scale, this seems to be an everyday scenario at every house. The ideology of spoon feeding takes away the originality in every individual leaving no room for thoughts to grow. How much have we mentally grown is a question which ought to be answered. I am personally very happy with legalising gay rights. But the forlorn struggle seems cryptic. What a person does in their bedroom is nobody’s business and certainly not the government’s. Better late than never though. Pat-Pat India!
All of this leads to one conclusion that there is a need for more freedom of thoughts. Years of mind numbing rituals in the name of conservatism has tied us down by a vicious chain which has to be broken down. It’s high time we grow up. There is a necessity for us to think, to question, to develop a sense of curiosity wherever required. Instead of making resolutions which pile up like files at the BMC office, let’s look back at what we’ve still not done, where we’ve gone wrong and correct our shortcomings ‘ourselves’. It’s high time we move on from being in-dependent.
Wake up! Its morning...
Wake up people! Not because swine flu is on the spread but rather because of the contagious rumours it spreads along with. I found it a little funny to find almost all status messages of my friends related to swine flu. Some prayers, some apprehension, some philosophical thoughts like “honi ko kaun taal sakta hai?” (Who can stop the imminent?), to some sense of bizarre joy like “Yippee!! Holidays!!” Whatever be the state of mind, there surely is a lot of misconception regarding the same.
It’s like the other day at school a kid saw his friend wearing a mask and said “SWAN FLOO!” (swine flu)
MYTH 1:
“EVERYONE WEARING A MASK HAS SWINE FLU”
TRUTH:
Absolutely not necessary. It can very well be for the sake of protection. Please get this thought out of your heads.
My friend who suffered from viral fever was accused of having swine flu.
MYTH 2:
“COUGH AND COLD ARE SYMPTOMS OF SWINE FLU”
TRUTH:
While the symptoms are the same, it may not always be swine flu. It may very well be a common cold/cough. But getting it verified from the doctor is appreciated.
A parent at school was complaining that wearing masks should be made compulsory at schools.
MYTH 3:
“MASKS PROVIDE 100% PROTECTION FROM SWINE FLU”
TRUTH:
Dr. D. Dhawan, chief medical officer said “masks don’t bestow much of an advantage to the wearer. They only add to the panic & scare that the spreading is faster than the flu. They DO NOT provide 100% protection. Instead, covering the mouth with a handkerchief or tissue folded to three layers could be more protective.”
MYTH 4:
“EATING PORK CAUSES SWINE FLU”
TRUTH:
Properly cooked pork, heated at 106 degree F does not possess a threat of spreading swine flu as H1N1 virus cannot survive at that temperature.
Hence from the above it is evident that there is a widespread misconception regarding swine flu. It can very much be treated. Death is not the ultimate. Instead of adding to the panic by spreading rumours regarding swine flu, let’s educate ourselves primarily and then spread awareness to help others cope with this scenario in a mature way. We are adults afterall!!!
It’s like the other day at school a kid saw his friend wearing a mask and said “SWAN FLOO!” (swine flu)
MYTH 1:
“EVERYONE WEARING A MASK HAS SWINE FLU”
TRUTH:
Absolutely not necessary. It can very well be for the sake of protection. Please get this thought out of your heads.
My friend who suffered from viral fever was accused of having swine flu.
MYTH 2:
“COUGH AND COLD ARE SYMPTOMS OF SWINE FLU”
TRUTH:
While the symptoms are the same, it may not always be swine flu. It may very well be a common cold/cough. But getting it verified from the doctor is appreciated.
A parent at school was complaining that wearing masks should be made compulsory at schools.
MYTH 3:
“MASKS PROVIDE 100% PROTECTION FROM SWINE FLU”
TRUTH:
Dr. D. Dhawan, chief medical officer said “masks don’t bestow much of an advantage to the wearer. They only add to the panic & scare that the spreading is faster than the flu. They DO NOT provide 100% protection. Instead, covering the mouth with a handkerchief or tissue folded to three layers could be more protective.”
MYTH 4:
“EATING PORK CAUSES SWINE FLU”
TRUTH:
Properly cooked pork, heated at 106 degree F does not possess a threat of spreading swine flu as H1N1 virus cannot survive at that temperature.
Hence from the above it is evident that there is a widespread misconception regarding swine flu. It can very much be treated. Death is not the ultimate. Instead of adding to the panic by spreading rumours regarding swine flu, let’s educate ourselves primarily and then spread awareness to help others cope with this scenario in a mature way. We are adults afterall!!!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Senseless Conversations:
Half of our boring lectures are pre-occupied with senseless conversations by passing notes. Here is one such converation that I happened to come across in one of my old books dated back when I was in 9th. Miss those good ol' days of absolute nonsense!
Pavithra: Are you studying?
Juthika: Yeah, kinda
Pavithra: Am I disturbing you?
Juthika: Hmmm...frankly, I dunno!!
Pavithra: Say yes!!
Juthika: YES
Pavithra: How rude!!
(stupid smiles thrown across the classroom)
Are you bored?
Juthika: NO
Pavithra: Oh! Tu ne mere, dil ko toda
tanha tanha mujhko choda
kyun kiya aisa sitam?
P.S:- It was out ritual to sing this song when someone was irritated. Kinda adds fuel to the fire!
(And juthika turns back to paying attention to the lecture)
Pavithra: Are you studying?
Juthika: Yeah, kinda
Pavithra: Am I disturbing you?
Juthika: Hmmm...frankly, I dunno!!
Pavithra: Say yes!!
Juthika: YES
Pavithra: How rude!!
(stupid smiles thrown across the classroom)
Are you bored?
Juthika: NO
Pavithra: Oh! Tu ne mere, dil ko toda
tanha tanha mujhko choda
kyun kiya aisa sitam?
P.S:- It was out ritual to sing this song when someone was irritated. Kinda adds fuel to the fire!
(And juthika turns back to paying attention to the lecture)
Friendzzzz...
Just as I was running through Sandhya's blog and I really found the idea of memoirs very cute. Brought me back to the memory lane of fun filled days with my friends. Here is a sneak-peak into my slam book that echos most of our laughters and yes, tears to some extent as well.
P.S:- Sorry for the copy cat work Sandhya :-( I know I have this privilege of being your friend ;-)
Arzoo- my best friend. (though its an understatement for you!)
I am favouritely called: Neha, Arz and ....ya (keep guessing!)
Hmmm...let me think... ;-)
My den: Toilet
:-o
Joy to me is: You, me Ashu and Dui come together for HP4 at Imax adlabs (true friends)
hope that happens soon!
My sunshine Friends: Pavithra, gouri, amrita chopra
Darn! miss those gud ol' days
I think I am: Bubbly, sweet and sour, extremely naughty and a perfect buddy.
Yes you are!!
I think you are: A god's angel who has been an extremely fab buddy. An absolutely fabulous girl!
Miss u sooo much!
Vaishnavi- my shweetu sis!
I am favouritely called: vaishu & guppy by my sis
I find pleasure in doing: eating, sleeping, listening to music and studying sometimes
Scolti!!! :P
I think you are: intelligent, overconfident, good looking (just kidding!) & bindaas
Gosh u know me so well!
Gouri- the missing piece of the 'trio'
I am favouritely called: Dui by you guys
Miss ya dui!
The most yummy treat: Brain soup
Is that where u get your supplement from??? :o :P
I find pleasure in doing: crap
???
I think I am: gr8, gud, kind, considerate, generous, cute, Not a rule breaker, Scholar (aren't these PJ's?)
No the last one aint ;)
I think you are: bubli, cute, sweet, kind, gr8 in English, wonderful n I love ya!!
love ya too swts!
Dated: the day you got +ve energy agin. BOL
no comments!!!
Supriya- the absolute rock star
I am favouritely called: Suppu or anything u guys wanna call me
how sweet of you!
Joy to me is: spending time with all of you & breaking school rules and being adventurous
Break the rulez!!
My sunshine friends: Shivaranjani, archu, shehnaz, shreyasta, you, arzoo, gouri, renuka and of course sssswati (kidding!)
boy do I remember her!
I think I am: well that's for you to decide but am quite friendly and the best!!!
yeah u are!
I think you are: very cute, sweet, friendly and you rock. Be cool as you are and rock everyone as you do! Keep smiling and enjoy life!
:) :) :)
Inder- the ladies man!
I am favouritely called as: Indi, Psycho
Like the second one!
You can ring me at: My phone number
DUH!!!
I was most embarassed when: I proposed to my girlfriend and she said NO
How come she was ur gf when she already said no?!?
I think I am: a good friend
agreed
I think you are: sweet, good and I cant lie more than that
disagreed! :P
Akash Soni
I am favouritely called: Kash, Ash etc
Joy to me is: like joy to me. Simple. Don't you know this much
Oh sorry for being such a dumba**
I think I am: 'A'dmirable, 'K'ind, 'A'nti-hero, 'S'mart, 'H'ooligan ( I am right)
no comments.
I think you are: Pakau but good, Idiot but smart, pakau, pakau, pakau,.....but a good friend of mine.
remember: a smile is often worth a thousand words- akash
Will remember n yeah thnx for those compliments!
Juthika Das- The nerdy buddy!
I am favouritely called: Jyo, Juthi
You can ring me at: My telephone number!
haha very funny!
One day I wanna be: Myself- the great!
lolz :P
My sunshine friends: me, me, me!!!
we're all her cosmic friends!
I find pleasure in doing: nothing
Strange. Same pinch! :P
I think I am: Good, friendly. Hey i forgot! That's for you to say. I dont compliment myself.
Achcha baba, you are good and friendly, happy???
I think you are: Well I can say this. You are sweet, friendly, fun loving, cute, extrovert and MAD!!!
hehe...thanks!
Nupur Kapur- The sweet one
My sparkling sun sign: Sagittarius
sagis are born sparkling, aren't we? 8)
My sunshine friends: YOU
teary eyed!
I think I am: quite a cool dudette ( I know you're laughing)
No I'm not :)
I think you are: very pretty. I really want you to be my friend. Oh! I forgot to tell you that you have a very sweet voice!!
We r friends all the way nupur! (P.S:- I know you had a misinterpretation of my voice!)
Debasish Mishra- The balanced dude!
I am favouritely called: Debasish
n deba???
My den: Somewhere in this beautiful and crazy world.
the most sensible yet irrelevant answer for this! :D
A most desired wish upon a star: To achieve the impossible and defeat the invincible.
and we were all asking for Brad Pitt, Hilary Duff and ice creams! You make me proud buddy!!
One day I wanna be: A world champion in badminton.
You will deba. No doubts about that!
My sunshine friends: Saurabh, Siddarth, Arzoo, Gouri and now its 'U' who is one of them.
Glad to be! :)
I think I am: I don't like to brag or show my specialities
:o :o :o woah!
I think you are: A nice and a good girl and cool too. I expect you to be so and don't let my expectations go wrong. You promise.
:)
Sushma- The cool freak!
I am favouritely called: Suchu
Ona day I wanna be: The boss of my country. I mean the P.M (Intrested in politics)
Vote do! Vote do! Sushma Chowdhary ko vote do! ;)
I find pleasure in doing: *SLEEPING* I love sleping!
same pinch!!! 8)
I think I am: I shouldn't boast about myself, but yeah I am a cool, cute, helpful bonny girl
Nahin nahin karke hi khud ki tareef kar lo! :P
I think you are: Sweet, charming, evergreen, smart, friendly, bold & a good friend. Hey, I can't le more than this!
Johnny Gaddar! x)
Tulika Kapoor- My Crime Partner
My nick name is: Nonie, tikxi, tuli
My heart aches to think of the day when: I got scoldings for getting less marks in English on my B'DAY!!!
hey its gonne be a year now since then. Happy anniversary! :P
I like to munch on: Junk
Remember having bingo during Mishra's lecture??? ;) :D
How I feel about you: You're a happy go lucky kind of a person who loves chatting
Dated: 22nd dec '08 i.e., during V.D's lecture (algebra at yukti):D 8)
P.S:- Sorry for the copy cat work Sandhya :-( I know I have this privilege of being your friend ;-)
Arzoo- my best friend. (though its an understatement for you!)
I am favouritely called: Neha, Arz and ....ya (keep guessing!)
Hmmm...let me think... ;-)
My den: Toilet
:-o
Joy to me is: You, me Ashu and Dui come together for HP4 at Imax adlabs (true friends)
hope that happens soon!
My sunshine Friends: Pavithra, gouri, amrita chopra
Darn! miss those gud ol' days
I think I am: Bubbly, sweet and sour, extremely naughty and a perfect buddy.
Yes you are!!
I think you are: A god's angel who has been an extremely fab buddy. An absolutely fabulous girl!
Miss u sooo much!
Vaishnavi- my shweetu sis!
I am favouritely called: vaishu & guppy by my sis
I find pleasure in doing: eating, sleeping, listening to music and studying sometimes
Scolti!!! :P
I think you are: intelligent, overconfident, good looking (just kidding!) & bindaas
Gosh u know me so well!
Gouri- the missing piece of the 'trio'
I am favouritely called: Dui by you guys
Miss ya dui!
The most yummy treat: Brain soup
Is that where u get your supplement from??? :o :P
I find pleasure in doing: crap
???
I think I am: gr8, gud, kind, considerate, generous, cute, Not a rule breaker, Scholar (aren't these PJ's?)
No the last one aint ;)
I think you are: bubli, cute, sweet, kind, gr8 in English, wonderful n I love ya!!
love ya too swts!
Dated: the day you got +ve energy agin. BOL
no comments!!!
Supriya- the absolute rock star
I am favouritely called: Suppu or anything u guys wanna call me
how sweet of you!
Joy to me is: spending time with all of you & breaking school rules and being adventurous
Break the rulez!!
My sunshine friends: Shivaranjani, archu, shehnaz, shreyasta, you, arzoo, gouri, renuka and of course sssswati (kidding!)
boy do I remember her!
I think I am: well that's for you to decide but am quite friendly and the best!!!
yeah u are!
I think you are: very cute, sweet, friendly and you rock. Be cool as you are and rock everyone as you do! Keep smiling and enjoy life!
:) :) :)
Inder- the ladies man!
I am favouritely called as: Indi, Psycho
Like the second one!
You can ring me at: My phone number
DUH!!!
I was most embarassed when: I proposed to my girlfriend and she said NO
How come she was ur gf when she already said no?!?
I think I am: a good friend
agreed
I think you are: sweet, good and I cant lie more than that
disagreed! :P
Akash Soni
I am favouritely called: Kash, Ash etc
Joy to me is: like joy to me. Simple. Don't you know this much
Oh sorry for being such a dumba**
I think I am: 'A'dmirable, 'K'ind, 'A'nti-hero, 'S'mart, 'H'ooligan ( I am right)
no comments.
I think you are: Pakau but good, Idiot but smart, pakau, pakau, pakau,.....but a good friend of mine.
remember: a smile is often worth a thousand words- akash
Will remember n yeah thnx for those compliments!
Juthika Das- The nerdy buddy!
I am favouritely called: Jyo, Juthi
You can ring me at: My telephone number!
haha very funny!
One day I wanna be: Myself- the great!
lolz :P
My sunshine friends: me, me, me!!!
we're all her cosmic friends!
I find pleasure in doing: nothing
Strange. Same pinch! :P
I think I am: Good, friendly. Hey i forgot! That's for you to say. I dont compliment myself.
Achcha baba, you are good and friendly, happy???
I think you are: Well I can say this. You are sweet, friendly, fun loving, cute, extrovert and MAD!!!
hehe...thanks!
Nupur Kapur- The sweet one
My sparkling sun sign: Sagittarius
sagis are born sparkling, aren't we? 8)
My sunshine friends: YOU
teary eyed!
I think I am: quite a cool dudette ( I know you're laughing)
No I'm not :)
I think you are: very pretty. I really want you to be my friend. Oh! I forgot to tell you that you have a very sweet voice!!
We r friends all the way nupur! (P.S:- I know you had a misinterpretation of my voice!)
Debasish Mishra- The balanced dude!
I am favouritely called: Debasish
n deba???
My den: Somewhere in this beautiful and crazy world.
the most sensible yet irrelevant answer for this! :D
A most desired wish upon a star: To achieve the impossible and defeat the invincible.
and we were all asking for Brad Pitt, Hilary Duff and ice creams! You make me proud buddy!!
One day I wanna be: A world champion in badminton.
You will deba. No doubts about that!
My sunshine friends: Saurabh, Siddarth, Arzoo, Gouri and now its 'U' who is one of them.
Glad to be! :)
I think I am: I don't like to brag or show my specialities
:o :o :o woah!
I think you are: A nice and a good girl and cool too. I expect you to be so and don't let my expectations go wrong. You promise.
:)
Sushma- The cool freak!
I am favouritely called: Suchu
Ona day I wanna be: The boss of my country. I mean the P.M (Intrested in politics)
Vote do! Vote do! Sushma Chowdhary ko vote do! ;)
I find pleasure in doing: *SLEEPING* I love sleping!
same pinch!!! 8)
I think I am: I shouldn't boast about myself, but yeah I am a cool, cute, helpful bonny girl
Nahin nahin karke hi khud ki tareef kar lo! :P
I think you are: Sweet, charming, evergreen, smart, friendly, bold & a good friend. Hey, I can't le more than this!
Johnny Gaddar! x)
Tulika Kapoor- My Crime Partner
My nick name is: Nonie, tikxi, tuli
My heart aches to think of the day when: I got scoldings for getting less marks in English on my B'DAY!!!
hey its gonne be a year now since then. Happy anniversary! :P
I like to munch on: Junk
Remember having bingo during Mishra's lecture??? ;) :D
How I feel about you: You're a happy go lucky kind of a person who loves chatting
Dated: 22nd dec '08 i.e., during V.D's lecture (algebra at yukti):D 8)
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